


Spideypool Headcanons - Shave, Clothes and Food

by Lafaiette



Series: Spideypool Headcanons [1]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, M/M, these two will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some Spideypool headcanons a friend and I share. May add more in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spideypool Headcanons - Shave, Clothes and Food

**Shaving**

Peter doesn’t look good with a beard, so he shaves as soon as he notices the first stubble on his chin.

He’s not that good though: he handles the razor awkwardly, hoping not to cut himself, and he doesn’t follow straight lines, he just tries to removes any hairs in a confused and nonlinear way.  
  
Obviously shaving requires him a lot of time, time he doesn’t have in the morning when his bitchy boss is waiting for him at work and he still doesn’t know what to wear.

So Wade helps him. In the endearingly weird way that is so _Wade_.

He takes a little razor blade - which he swears it hasn’t been used to rip any insides out - and gently shaves his cheeks, chin and upper lip. He usually talks and talks until he’s done and Peter listens to him with a small smile, eyes closed. Other times Wade is quiet, but Peter can see his relaxed stance and calm face and he knows how much Wade loves doing this.

Peter loves it too and one day he says so to Wade, who snorts and kisses his temple, whispering: “Here you go, baby boy. Looking dapper as ever.”

 

**Clothes**

Wade doesn’t have many belongings - his job takes him to different places of the world and he’s used to change place when things get dangerous in a city he’s just “worked” in.

He doesn’t even have many clothes - just several spare Deadpool costumes and masks, an old tattered hoodie, some jeans and two dresses that manage to arouse Peter to no end.

But apart from those few clothes, some comics and weapons, Wade doesn’t own anything _personal_ , anything that tells stories of his person, anything that describes him and not _Deadpool_.

Peter urges him to buy _something_ \- hell, he will pay for it if necessary! Wade really needs more clothes, but that’s not it: Peter wants to see him living as a _person_ , not as a human weapon that doesn’t require anything to live, just guns and katanas.

He first takes him to a big clothes shop, where he’s sure no clerk will interrupt them and stare at Wade’s scars.

“I don’t need new clothes, Pete, I washed this hoodie three weeks ago and it doesn’t smell yet!”

“It _does_.” Peter replies smacking him on the head. “Come on, at least try something!”

After childish grumbles and fake pouts, Wade enters one of the dressing rooms carrying some red and black t-shirts, a new pair of jeans and a warm black sweater Peter told him is absolutely necessary for the coming winter. He even tries to take a frilly pink dress, but Peter stops him before he can scare the ladies in the woman section.

The shirts and jeans are good, Peter admits, but he’s kinda saddened by Wade’s choices: these colours are dark, not cheerful, and they are similar to his Deadpool costume, as always. Plus they are oversized, probably to hide Wade’s body, but they make it look bigger and graceless.

Peter knows that’s not the case - even with all the scars and tumors, Wade’s body is beautiful, built, strong, fascinating and alluring.

“Umh… Wouldn’t you like something… different?”

Wade pouts again and looks at him with disappointed eyes.

“I wanted to try that dress, but you were all _nooo_! What, you don’t like pink? It makes me look cute and my eyes stand out when I wear it!”

“I’m not talking about the dress.” Peter sighs and he takes a beautiful white shirt  - with red lines on the collar - and hands it to him.

“Something like this, for example!”

Wade eyes the elegant shirt as if it’s made of thorns, but returns into the dressing room with new grumbles, which make Peter giggle.

When the merc exits, he stops laughing and looks at him for a long moment, heart pounding and cheeks reddening.

Wade looks incredibly _good_ with that simple white shirt and buttoned sleeves.  
  
He avoids Peter’s eyes, suddenly shy and aware of his bare neck and the way the white fabric clings to his body. There is also no hood to cover his head and he shuffles his feet on the ground, mumbling something about returning into the dressing room to change into the usual hobo-like outfit.

“No!” Peter exclaims rushing next to him. He lifts his head up and smiles, his eyes glinting with joy and pride.

“You look so nice! It… it really suits you.”

Is that a blush? Yeah, it’s definitely a blush and Peter laughs softly as Wade lowers his head again, trying to hide his own red cheeks and his smile.

“If you say so, baby boy…”

“I’m not kidding. Come on, let’s find you another one! What about this pale blue one?”

After exploring other stands and aisles, they are finally ready to go. They’ve found two other beautiful shirts, an orange sweater and a leather jacket Wade almost shyly asked to try. He has said something about his father who didn’t let him buy one when he was younger and the regret that lingered for all these years and Peter has almost taken all the leather jackets available in the store.

They are near the cash counter, when Peter remembers something important and drags his boyfriend up to the woman section.

“Where was that dress again, honey?”

 

**Food and weight**

Wade may not be the best cook in the world, but Peter loves when he cooks for _him_.

He always makes a mess on the kitchen counter, the stove and the sink, but the good spicy smell and the sound of food frying in the pan make Peter’s heart flutter with joy every time he comes back from work.

Poor Wade always makes caloric food, hoping to put some weight and flesh on Peter’s bones, but he knows it’s a hard task. Still he tries, choosing the most nutritious and tastiest food and ingredients.

Most of the times it’s not food Peter is used to - Aunt May always made him light and pretty simple stuff -, but he can’t say he doesn’t love it. Sometime it’s raw, sometime some parts of it are too cooked, but it’s the thought that counts and Peter can see the care Wade puts into every dish.

He does the same when the merc comes back from a long and hard job. Wade jokes, calling him “a good wife”, but Peter can see clearly his happiness and feel his strong arms around his body, holding and stroking him.

“What would you like to eat tomorrow?” Peter asks one evening as they wash the dishes together.

“You!” it’s the flirty answer and Peter laughs when a pair of chapped and rough lips gently brushes his cheek.

“It’s the spider who eats its prey.” Peter reminds him with a lascivious grin which Wade returns immediately.

“Maybe that way you would put on some weight, baby boy.”

“So I can eat you?”

Wade’s answer is a long, deep kiss that makes them both laugh and head to the bedroom with squeezed hands and shameless giggles.


End file.
